


as you wish

by arielf17



Series: ari tried to do bingo? [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky has an offscreen best friend, Characters question their own existence and fictionality, M/M, Meet-Cute, Natasha has an offscreen girlfriend, Smut, Teacher Bucky Barnes, Writer Steve Rogers, hint: it's sharon, hint: it's tony, people have sex and I sort of describe it, sam wilson says things about bucky barnes that anthony mackie has said about sebastian stan, sort of??? maybe??? I don't know???, steve writes romance novels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-11
Updated: 2019-12-11
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:26:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21753706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arielf17/pseuds/arielf17
Summary: prompt: romance novel
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanov, Steve Rogers & Sam Wilson
Series: ari tried to do bingo? [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1567834
Kudos: 23





	as you wish

**Author's Note:**

> imma level with you this is the first smut thing that I have written not as a joke/on a dare that I've completed so it's probably not that great! I like all the parts of this story that aren't the sex part but I still felt the need to describe it because feelings?
> 
> but yeah there is smut here and I feel the need to disclose that as well as say the sex part of the story is probably oddly written but it still needed to be in there

Steve prided himself on his ability to separate his work from his personal life, but truth be told, he did it a little too well. His interactions with romance were a business transaction. That was how he had to think of things, so he didn’t get his heart broken. Again. 

None of these very logical considerations why Steve was absolutely not dating anyone no holds barred mattered in the slightest to Natasha Romanoff, which is why Steve never bothered to voice them to her. Even when she spent the entirety of their walk through the bookstore trying to get him to forget his logical considerations. 

“Oh, just go out with him one time,” said Natasha, “he’s really cute, and this one time he got arrested for disturbing the peace.” 

“So you date him.” 

“I’m a lesbian, and I have a girlfriend. You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Don’t need one, don’t want one. Why the push, Nat?” 

“Because your dingy apartment is sad and lonely, and also I know you crave companionship of the romantic persuasion.” 

“Because I’m a romance writer?”

Natasha smacked him upside the head. 

“Because you’re you. You like being with other people, you like relationships. You like to pretend that your writing has nothing to do with your personal life, so you don’t get hurt.” 

_ Damn you, Romanoff, _ thought Steve. 

“It’s more than that, Tasha. My chosen career has totally ruined my perceptions of romance. I write romance novels. There’s no grand adventure for me, no handsome stranger to sweep me off my feet. I ruined romance and it’s my own damn fault.” 

No sooner had Steve finished speaking, a man entered the bookstore, and Steve’s heart skipped a beat. He had arrhythmia, it wasn’t a big deal. 

“There’s your handsome stranger, Rogers,” said Natasha. 

“Yeah, ‘cause I’m that lucky,” chuckled Steve. 

“Just go talk to him, you big dope.”

Natasha shoved Steve out from behind the bookshelf the two of them had hidden behind. However, Steve was a hundred pounds soaking wet and Natasha had a nasty habit of badly misjudging her own strength, which lead to Steve sprawled on the carpet of the bookstore. 

_ Damn you, Romanoff, _ thought Steve. 

“Hey pal. You alright down there?” 

Steve looked up, and there was the handsome stranger. He was kneeling down in front of Steve’s prostrate body, offering a hand to him. His steel blue eyes were tilted in a kind and earnest expression. A lock of his dark hair had escaped from the otherwise immaculate coif and hung delicately over the man’s face. Steve took the man’s hand, and stood up slowly. 

_ The bookstore should not play music, _ thought Steve, as the chorus of Can’t Fight This Feeling synced up perfectly with his interaction with the man. Steve finally managed to quash that starry eyed part of him that wanted to stare up at the blue eyed dreamboat in front of him, just enough to get his bearings and let go of the jerk’s hand, but not enough to refrain from using words like dreamboat. 

“Thanks,” said Steve, “I don’t normally fall that hard.” 

_ What the fuck,  _ thought Steve,  _ I thought I had my bearings! _

The man smiled shyly. 

“No problem. I’m Bucky.” 

“Okay, nope,” said Steve, “not buying it, it’s too much, even for me. Hot guy, fine. Hot chivalrous guy, fine. Hot chivalrous guy with REO Speedwagon? Nope. That’s the stuff of fiction, I should know, I write fiction. Are you an actor, or a con man, or did somebody just yank you out of the romance section and drop you into the most contrived meet-cute ever written? AM I A FICTIONAL CHARACTER?” 

Bucky smirked. 

“You’re cute. You should go on a tirade about tropes in romantic fiction at me over dinner sometime.”

“See! These things don’t happen!” 

“I’m just gonna give you my number.” 

“THERE IS NO REASON WHY YOU WOULD DO THAT! WHO IS WRITING THIS AND ARE THEY ON DRUGS?” 

Bucky pressed a piece of paper into Steve’s hand. He then lifted Steve’s hand and kissed it. 

“See ya.” 

“YOU KISSED MY HAND? WHAT THE HELL TIMELINE IS THIS?” 

#

“Call him.”

“No.”

“Steve, call him.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You want to call him.” 

“No I don’t.”

“Yes you do. I was watching that whole thing go down, I saw how you looked at him.” 

“Doesn’t matter. I am not calling Mr. Made A Pass At Lil Old Me In the Bookstore Even Though He Looks Like A Cartoon Prince Had A Baby With the Moon. There is only hardship down that road.”

“Oh my God, stop being dramatic for literally three seconds. We both know you already programmed him into your phone, you’re going to call him because you’ve been awkwardly stroking the back of your left hand for the past ten minutes.” 

Steve called Bucky (who  _ was  _ programmed into his phone as Bucky the Bookstore Prince, shut up Natasha) approximately 28 hours after meeting him, after Natasha had left his apartment, because he didn’t believe her when she said “I promise not to make ridiculous fake sex noises in the background of the call.” 

“Hello?” 

“Hi Bucky, this is the guy from the bookstore who flew into an existential panic in front of you.” 

“Hey Steve. Wonderful to hear from you. How would you feel about getting dinner with me sometime?” 

“Honestly, pretty great, as long as I can take a picture of you to show to my friends so I can prove that you’re hot after you inevitably get tired of me and abandon me, cheat on me, or publicly humiliate me.” 

“I’m not going to do any of those things, but you can have a picture anyway. Are you busy tonight?” 

His voice was so earnest, Steve almost believed him. 

“I’m not busy.” 

“I’ll text you later and we can get dinner. I’ll send you a picture. Do you want my shirt on, or off?” 

“Off,” croaked Steve. 

“As you wish. See you tonight.”

Steve hung up very quickly. He needed help. He rocked back and forth on the couch as he called Sam. 

“What’s up, Steve?”

“I might have a date, he’s too hot for me, I need your help.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

By the time Sam arrived, Steve was pacing back and forth in his living room, more nervous than he had been before he had called Sam. Why was that? It was because Bucky had texted him a picture. Was he wearing a shirt in that picture? No. No he was not. 

“Dude,” said Sam, “sit your ass down.” 

Steve collapsed onto the couch. 

“We were flirting, well, he was flirting and I was being stupid so I asked him to let me take a picture of him so my friends would know he was hot after he got tired of me and he said do you want my shirt on or off and I said off so now I wish I was dead because he actually sent me a picture of himself without his fucking shirt on and he’s going to kill me.”

“Show me what you’re working with here, Rogers.” 

Steve handed Sam his phone. 

“Damn!”

“Sam.” 

“That man has the face of a Greek god.”

“Sam.” 

“Only one man can have that face.”

“Sam, please stop.” 

“Those steel blue eyes let you know where home is, you know what I’m talking about?” 

“Yes, Sam.” 

“Check his thighs, though. Bet he’s got a nice booty.” 

“He does.” 

“I knew it. Okay, I get why you’re nervous.” 

Steve’s phone buzzed with a text from Bucky,  _ you like burgers? I know a great burger place. pick you up at 7? _

“Steve,” said Sam, “if you don’t go on this date, I will.” 

#

When Bucky showed up at Steve’s apartment, Steve almost climbed down the fire escape in order to hitchhike to Canada and change his name to Josepi McGillicutty. But, through some miracle, he didn’t. He answered the door and  _ Jesus Christ this man would be the death of him. _

“Hey,” said Bucky, “you look great.” 

Steve did not look great. Steve had messy hair and was wearing a blazer over a hoodie, like an English professor. Bucky, on the other hand, Bucky did look great. Bucky’s leather jacket was more well worn than the shirt he wore beneath it, but he still seemed like he’d put a lot of thought into what he was going to wear for their date. 

“I’m still not convinced that you’re real.” 

There was no way that Bucky was real. Bucky was handsome and charming and took Steve’s arm after they left the apartment. Bucky had a dumpy Subaru that he’d kept because it had belonged to his dad. Bucky opened the door and smiled and looked so genuine Steve could have screamed. 

“So, you mentioned at the bookstore that you’re an author?” asked Bucky. 

“Yeah, I’m a romance novelist. What about you, what do you do?” 

“I teach high school physics. My best friend likes to tease me, he says I’m too smart to not be trying to invent a time machine or something.” 

There was no way that Bucky was real. Bucky was a sci-fi nerd who called all his students “his kids” and looked at Steve with stars in his eyes as he escorted him back to the door of his apartment. There was no way that Bucky was real, because Steve had a nice time with him. 

“Can I kiss you?” asked Bucky. 

“Yeah,” said Steve, “you can.”

Bucky drew a circle around Steve’s ear with his thumb and put his other hand on Steve’s waist. He took a few small trial steps closer to Steve, who blinked owlishly as his own hands alighted on Bucky’s chest. Bucky tipped his head forward, and rested his forehead against Steve’s. Steve told himself that it was Bucky’s breath that was making his face warm. Bucky nudged Steve’s nose with his and it sent a shiver up Steve’s spine as Bucky tilted their heads, controlling the movement even though the two of them were barely touching. 

Steve was losing his mind and Bucky hadn’t even kissed him yet. 

Bucky kissed Steve, gently and tentatively, like he was waiting for something. Steve gripped Bucky’s jacket and realized that Bucky was waiting for him. He circled his arms around Bucky’s neck, not quite as tentative but just as gentle. Bucky wrapped his arm all the way around Steve’s waist as he tilted his head down, pulling his lips away from Steve’s and staring into his eyes. 

“Stay,” whispered Steve, “any minute now I’m gonna wake up and you’ll be gone. You’ll be gone because I can’t have nice things, so please stay. You can kiss me again and touch me if you want but please don’t leave just yet, I want to remember you.”

“Steve.”

“I want to remember the way you look at me and how you kiss and what you smell like and what a massive dork you are, so please, Buck. Please stay.” 

“As you wish.” 

Steve took Bucky’s hand and led himself inside the apartment. When Steve made to let go of Bucky’s hand, Bucky kissed Steve’s hand. 

“Why can’t you have nice things?” asked Bucky. 

“Because I almost didn’t exist, and I almost died three times before I was ten years old. When you go through something like that, and almost everything else is taken away from you, you hold on to what you’ve got, and you’re thankful for it. Because everything else is broken, so you take care of what you have. And you don’t go out and get something you want, because fighting how you feel is nothing, when you’ve been fighting your life.” 

Bucky kissed him, firm and passionate but still with caution. He held Steve like he thought he would snap him in two. 

“You said I could touch you if I wanted to?” asked Bucky. 

“Yeah, I did say that.” 

“I want to. Is that still okay?” 

“Mmhm.” 

“Where’s your bedroom?” 

Steve took both Bucky’s hands in his and led him backwards through his apartment back into his bedroom. The second they had passed the threshold, Bucky tenderly took Steve’s face in his hands. Never in his life had Steve been kissed like that, as Bucky maneuvered him onto the bed and crawled on top of him. 

“Bucky,” he breathed. 

Bucky kissed his way along Steve’s jaw and down his neck. Steve awkwardly pawed at Bucky’s jacket, eventually working it off of him and tossing it onto his floor. Bucky gingerly peeled Steve out of his blazer and sweater. 

“I think it’s really sexy that you’ve been wearing a Nets t-shirt this whole time,” said Bucky. 

In response, Steve reached for the hem of Bucky’s t-shirt and lifted it over his head. Bucky’s hair got all messed up, and he immediately dove back into Steve’s neck, sucking at his skin and biting softly when Steve ran his hand through Bucky’s hair. Steve stifled a giggle as Bucky slid his hands underneath Steve’s shirt. Bucky smirked as he removed Steve’s shirt, caressing his back along the way. 

Bucky peppered kisses down Steve’s chest as Steve whimpered. Bucky made his way back up Steve’s chest, then sat up, resting on Steve’s dick, screaming against Bucky’s ass and a few layers of fabric that really didn’t need to be there. Steve’s hands flew to Bucky’s pants and undid them. Bucky kicked out of his pants as he kissed Steve and moaned into his mouth. 

He started to make his way down again, kissing his way back down Steve’s body as he slowly worked him out of his pants. Bucky kissed his way back up Steve’s leg and nosed at the tent in his underwear. Steve blindly reached into his bedside drawer and ignored the twinge in his arm as he removed lube and condom from the drawer and left it open. 

Steve would have been embarrassed by the desperate noises he made as Bucky worked him open, but Bucky moaned along with him in an erotic symphony that Steve would later kick himself for describing as such. 

“Buck, please,” he whimpered, “I’m ready.” 

“As you wish.” 

Steve wasn’t used to losing control. He was used to taping everything down just so that he wouldn’t lose control. He was used to writing the most epic endings for people he’d made up, happily ever afters that could make a grown man cry, knowing he’d never get to experience them. 

Then Bucky Barnes made love to him and he knew he would have to revise his hypothesis. A whole other part of him that he thought he’d killed came alive that night. He held on tight as Bucky moved inside of him like he belonged there, whispering to Steve. 

“How do you feel?” Bucky asked. 

“Perfect, don’t stop.” 

“You’re perfect. You feel amazing.” 

“Are you close?” 

“Fuck, how are you so calm. Shit, right there.” 

“I’ll take that as a yes.” 

Steve reached up and tugged Bucky towards him as he came. He couldn’t explain it, but he needed to look Bucky in the eyes as the tension left his gut. He needed Bucky’s eyes on him, he needed and wanted every last part of Bucky. 

#

Bucky was not in bed when Steve woke up. Bucky had cleaned them both up and changed the sheets and cuddled Steve, but he wasn’t there when Steve woke up. Steve was in the process of checking his phone to see that the picture Bucky had sent him was still there when he heard a piano riff come from the kitchen. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.” 

Steve heard singing. 

“Just take those old records off the shelf, I sit and listen to them by myself.” 

Steve hurriedly pulled on boxers and a t-shirt as the singing continued. 

“Today’s music ain’t got the same soul, I like that old time rock and roll.” 

Steve ran into the kitchen. Sure enough, there was Bucky, dancing in the kitchen while mixing a big bowl of batter. 

“Hey,” said Steve. 

Bucky looked up from his batter and winked at Steve. He put a pan on the stove and then turned it on. He walked over to Steve and kissed him. 

“You’re here,” whispered Steve. 

“Steve. Did you think I was going to have sex with you and then slink out of your apartment like a cat burglar?”

“No. I thought you were going to make mind boggling love to me which made me question my whole romantic philosophy and feel more strongly than I have about another person in my entire life and then slink out of my apartment like a cat burglar.” 

Bucky took Steve’s chin in his hand and kissed him once, twice, then once more. 

“I don’t know what happened to you, but I know I’m crazy about you. So if you still want me to, I’ll stay.” 

“Do you want to stay? I’ve never said anything like this before, or done anything like this before, or felt anything like this before. I can’t skip to the end of the story, I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

“You can’t think like that, Steve,” said Bucky, “you just gotta let yourself be you, and let me be me, and let me care about you, and let yourself care about me, and let us be us, and let us turn the pages, one by one. You don’t need to skip to the end, because there isn’t one. Not every story has one. If you really want to skip something, you can skip the ever after, and just be happy.” 

“It’s that easy?” asked Steve. 

“Not for everyone. But I’ll do everything I can to make it easier for you. Now gaze at me adoringly while I make us pancakes.”

“As you wish.” 

**Author's Note:**

> hoped y'all liked my bingo prompts! I had a lot of fun writing these so I hope you enjoyed them! 
> 
> I have posted all ten of these in one night and my brain might explode lol


End file.
